


beneath a crescent moon

by fraldariuwus (sakesword)



Category: Hakuouki, 刀剣乱舞 | Touken Ranbu
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Crossover, Frottage, Happy Birthday Alek!, M/M, Messy, Onsen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Swordboys, Swordfighting, cum as lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakesword/pseuds/fraldariuwus
Summary: Saito doesn’t know why he’s here or what happened to his Kyoto, but when he meets a mysterious man who evokes the essence of the moon, he decides to make the most of it.
Relationships: Mikazuki Munechika/Saitou Hajime
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	beneath a crescent moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TsarAlek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsarAlek/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEK! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy these horny sword boys getting handsy and messy! Please have a wonderful day<3
> 
> -light

Everything here is similar to Kyoto, it _is_ Kyoto, but something is off. This world is strange, the man before Saito, stranger. Mikazuki—he said to call him—moves like a blade, strikes like a blade, shines like a blade as he dodges Saito’s riposte.

As soon as they crossed paths, on what was once a Gion street, Saito recognized a challenge in Mikazuki, and that was the first thing he understood in days. No words were necessary, just fingers wrapped around the hilt of one of the katanas on his right hip, a glare.

Mikazuki smiled; and now he’s _laughing._

Laughing as if Saito weren’t a master of _iai_ , laughing as if a skirmish were a performance of _karukichi_.

“Tch,” Saito sighs as he dashes toward the mysterious man and his impractical armor. 

Saito’s sword cuts air. Starlight flashes in Mikazuki’s eyes when he strikes back. Saito barely sidesteps the gleaming edge.

It happens again, and again. Neither of them can touch the other, and by the time they’ve called it no contest both are sweating, panting, a mutual respect hangs between them.

If this is where Saito is to be, at least he has found a partner to spar with before he can make contact with Hijikata or another of the shinsengumi.

“Hey,” Saito says. “You coming?”

*

Saito isn’t sure what compelled him to invite Mikazuki to return to the ryokan with him, but Mikazuki accepted before Saito could take it back.

It isn’t too bad though, to have someone to chat to while they soak in the onsen. Despite his taciturn nature, Saito is accustomed to life with the shinsengumi, and ever since he arrived here, he’d been at a loss for what to do. Knowing no one, talking to no one, wandering the streets of ‘Gion’ searching for a clue of how he ended up in this place.

They’re in the changing room now, stripping off the inn-provided, simple yukata. Mikazuki removes the decorative pin in his hair, Saito pulls the tie from his. Midnight purple silk tickles Saito’s collarbone. No one else seems to be using the facilities, if they are, they’re being rather quiet.

Saito undoes his obi and lets his robe fall into a woven bamboo basket before sliding open the door to the outdoor bathing area, “I’ll go on ahead.”

“Alright,” Mikazuki says.

The mineral-rich spring’s steam carries the scent of its healing properties, and Saito exhales a sigh of relief as he steps into the stone tub. The hot water is already soothing his aching muscles. Saito needed this, he closes his eyes and meditates until he hears a splash as Mikazuki enters the bath.

“Ah, it feels great,” Mikazuki comments. “I could rest here all day.”

“Yeah.”

“So, where did you come from, exactly?” Mikazuki asks. “I know most of the swordsmen in town, but I’ve never seen you before.”

What can Saito say? It’d been a routine patrolling mission on the outskirts of Kyoto, one Saito could have easily completed solo, he’d even expected to call it early that night. But the Kyoto he’d returned to was uncanny: the same building facades, but different names, different businesses. He’d thought it a dream.

But it’s been over one week, and still he remains, Saito was right to follow his gut and check into an inn. When he’d ventured out that morning he could have never anticipated meeting someone like Mikazuki in the early afternoon. A man with eyes that glowed like the rarest crescent moon, whose name and every mannerism evoked the presence of one. A tranquility, wise beyond its years, yet inclined to be fickle, actions defined only by whim.

And now Mikazuki sits, stripped of all embellishment, next to Saito in this humble spring. He isn’t any less beautiful, he may be more.

This was once _Mori no Yuu_. Any discrepancies between the water there and the water here caressing Saito’s skin are undetectable. The foliage itself, a facsimile. It only makes it eerier.

But all Saito can do is wait whatever this is out, might as well relax.

“I don’t meet many so skilled.” After he says it, Mikazuki chuckles, bright and full of joy.

The water sloshes again as Mikazuki wades through, closer to Saito. When Saito opens his eyes he sees the man grinning at him again. Perhaps it was too hot on the other side, the onsen is fed there.

“Same to you,” Saito says. 

Electricity sparks though Saito when Mikazuki’s much-too-soft hand strokes over Saito’s forearm. Saito’s gaze flicks down, but he says nothing; he doesn’t mind it.

If anything, it’s welcome after being on his own. Saito tilts his head back and inhales the fresh air. Mikazuki has been kind, he’s a worthy adversary, and he has a captivating beauty unlike anything Saito has ever witnessed. Moonlight skin, tight, honed muscle, a warmth. Mikazuki’s hair isn’t as lengthy as Saito’s, but it doesn’t need to be when he’s that gorgeous.

Even if this doesn’t mean anything, Saito’s left arm can always use a massage.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Saito asks.

“Hmm...” Mikazuki says. “I can show you what I want.”

With that, Mikazuki’s long, elegant fingers trail higher and higher, over Saito’s bicep, past his collarbone, until they trace Saito’s jawline and curl to coax him into a kiss. 

Their lips barely brush together, but an aroma of cherry blossoms permeates everything. Saito’s eyelashes flutter, a heat floods to his cheeks.

Saito doesn’t think—he grabs at Mikazuki, crushing their lips together. Mikazuki smiles when he accepts, “ _Mmmm._ ”

 _Already satisfied._ Normally, Saito might shrug something like that off, but Mikazuki sounds so good it only makes Saito want him more, he can’t resist licking into Mikazuki’s mouth to taste the silky fruit of the fine sake he imbibed earlier.

Mikazuki positions himself closer, close enough for his chest to press against Saito’s, sinew on sinew. Their hands explore the planes and grooves of the other’s back and each of them palm over shoulder blades, trained lats, anything.

An equal. Saito wants Mikazuki to take him apart.

Mikazuki’s hands descend over Saito’s hips, he urges Saito into his lap with a light push. Mikazuki doesn’t have to try when Saito already needs him like this. Straddling Mikazuki in the water, kissing him even deeper, Saito trembles as his dick slides against Mikazuki’s, they’re both so hard already, it’s so hot in here.

Mikazuki must concur, he breaks the kiss, he’s panting.

“Your room.” It isn’t a question.

Saito doesn’t balk; they both emerge from the pool, water dripping down their toned physiques. Nothing matters now, not who opens the door to the inn, not whose obi is haphazardly tightened first, not who turns the key to the Bamboo Suite Saito rented.

Yet, upon their arrival, Mikazuki offers, “Shall I brew some tea?”

“After.”

“Okay.”

There’s no need to play coy, they both know what they’re here for. As soon as their geta are off, Mikazuki grabs at the V-opening of Saito’s yukata and pushes him against the simple clay wall.

“You’re pretty,” Mikazuki says before urging his mouth against Saito’s, then capturing Saito’s lower lip in his teeth. The bite courses though Saito’s whole body, lighting him even more on fire than he already was, his breath hitches.

“I don’t know who you are,” Saito states, “I don’t know where I am... but let’s make the most of this.”

“I agree.” The haunting yellow rings in Mikazuki’s eyes almost fill his ocean-blue irises. It’s mesmerizing.

Saito mirrors Mikazuki’s first move, hooking his fingers beneath cotton to pull Mikazuki back into a kiss. 

No more banter. Only the way they feel.

Mikazuki is leaning against Saito, his hands open against the wall, his cock is hard, his hips start to rock. Saito delights in the muted sensation, unable to stop the tiny gasps escaping his throat.

Their motions are almost rhythmic, their yukatas tenting as they rub against each other. Saito is already leaking from this stunning man, from how he wants him.

Saito shoves a hand beneath Mikazuki’s neckline, traversing his chest to find his nipple and tweak at it as they continue to kiss, sloppy and sloppier. This isn’t a skirmish, this isn’t the blade—they don’t need to be precise. Saito doesn’t mind if the spit dribbling down his chin forms a bead, if it falls onto the tatami.

He only needs Mikazuki, on him; inside him.

Saito pushes him off, “You have oil, right?”

“I was thinking of something else.”

“Oh?” Saito asks. At this point, he’s open to anything.

“I wondered,” Mikazuki begins.

“Wondered what?”

He laughs again before he says, “If you’d take me in your mouth.”

Saito doesn’t answer verbally, instead he drops to his knees and tugs at Mikazuki’s yukata, parting it so he can see Mikazuki’s pretty, hard cock, “I’m ready.”

“Oh,” Mikazuki says. “Well, go ahead, take your time.” Another reminder that Mikazuki doesn’t know Saito, doesn’t know Saito’s drive. Soon thereafter, Mikazuki’s cock hits the back of Saito’s throat. Mikazuki’s eyes widen when Saito looks up at him, “Or that.”

That beautiful hand again, buried in Saito’s hair as he bobs up and down. Saito laps, Saito twists his tongue, Saito does his best. Mikazuki’s hips jerk forward, he pushes Saito closer, “Is this okay?”

It’s time. Saito draws back from the neatly cropped pubic hair at the base of Mikazuki’s shaft, he focuses only on the head of Mikazuki’s cock as he brings his own hand up to stroke him off. 

Mikazuki moans, “Saito.”

“Hajime is fine,” he mumbles.

“Hajime,” Mikazuki moans again.

Mikazuki’s cock is slick with precum and spit, so swollen with desire. Saito utilizes the finest technique: licking under the ridge, sucking intermittently, dragging a trail of saliva with him as he retreats. Not giving Mikazuki even a moment to breathe before Saito is pursing his lips again.

Mikazuki groans the name of some deity, he inhales sharply through his teeth, his nails dig into Saito’s scalp. 

For someone so powerful, Mikazuki is quick to succumb. But still he exerts his dominance, it stings when Mikazuki’s fingers grasp, get tangled in Saito’s hair, when he pulls Saito off of his cock, “Gods.”

Mikazuki miscalculated—did he? Ropes of hot, white cum lash out from the slit of Mikazuki’s dick, spraying over Saito’s hair, his forehead, painting Saito’s yukata and his own with a splatter of seed.

“Fuck,” Saito curses. But it isn’t over yet, another spurt, another splash against Saito’s cheek, on his upper lip. Saito instinctively licks it off, it’s light in taste, slightly salty.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Mikazuki swipes a hand through his hair, behind him, toward his shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Saito says.

“I’ve been selfish so far,” Mikazuki says, voice tinged with guilt. “Please allow me to make it worth your while.”

Who is this guy, anyway? What are these lines?

“Prove it.”

Mikazuki falls toward the floor, splaying his hands on the mat on either side of Saito’s body. Before Saito can say anything, that pink tongue is extended toward him, it’s lapping up the cum from Saito’s cheek, it’s nearing Saito’s mouth. And Saito parts his lips to receive it. The flavor is concentrated, their tongues tangle together. Mikazuki looks pleased before his eyes screw shut, he threads his fingers into Saito’s inky locks.

Saito’s so hard, he grinds against Mikazuki without thought as they kiss, passing the fluid between them. This could be enough, it’s arousing, it’s base, but just then Saito feels Mikazuki press into his stomach, down along his belly. Mikazuki’s fingers dip below the folds of Saito’s yukata, to encircle Saito’s cock, “Ah!”

“Ah, you’re sensitive,” Mikazuki remarks. Saito turns his head until the only object in his vision is the futon he’s been sleeping on for all this time, “I like that.”

“What are you going to do?” Saito asks. All this talk, and no action.

“Oh? Should I tell you?”

“Yeah,” Saito says, gripping his cock. “Otherwise, I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Go ahead.” Before Saito can respond, Mikazuki’s finger swipes over Saito’s forehead, his cheek, over his own yukata, over Saito’s, until it’s coated with his own cum, “This will do. Would you please lean back, and spread your legs?” Hand curled around his cock, Saito obeys. Mikazuki’s spend is still warm on his fingers when he begins to circle Saito’s hole, “Relax, okay?”

It already feels amazing, those clever fingers don’t delay before setting to the task of working Saito open. Just one sinking in is divine, just one tapping featherlight over where Saito needs it most. Saito whines.

Lewd, wet sounds echo throughout the room when Mikazuki slips in another cum-slicked finger and flicks his wrist to rub the two against Saito’s prostate. Every touch, every slide has Saito whimpering. Lightning dances through him, causing Saito to shudder as his nipples and abs tighten. A low rumble builds within him. _So soon._

Saito chases his pleasure, he quivers as the side of his hand brushes beneath the flushed tip of his dick and over. Mikazuki doesn’t relent, he beams as he presses _harder_ , “It’s okay. Don’t hold back.”

“I won’t,” Saito manages. His thighs are clenching, he’s shaking, it’s going to happen. Saito quakes within, pearly strands shoot from him as he surrenders to what’s natural. There’s much too much, the cum hits his own chest, hits Mikazuki’s chin, where he’s hovering over him. Saito tries to catch his breath, he loosens the grip on his shaft.

But Mikazuki isn’t finished, he flexes his finger, and those waves of ecstasy crash over Saito again, ripping a strangled moan from the back of his throat. More seed trickles out, rolling down Saito’s cock, past his balls, his hole, onto the tatami as Saito collapses.

“Gods,” Saito finally exhales.

Messy as they are, messy as Mikazuki is, he’s still mystically beautiful, he’s still kind, “Shall I brew us some tea?”

“I’d like that,” Saito says. “And, I suppose we ought to take another bath.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, feel free to let me know what you think! ^^;
> 
> I find it endlessly entertaining that this is my first non-FE3H fic hahah, but honestly I’m not that surprised.
> 
> Disclaimer that I had not played Hakuouki or seen Touken Ranbu when i wrote this lmao hope it was fun anyway XD  
>    
> [I’m on twitter](https://twitter.com/sakesword)


End file.
